A Bad Day
by d60kit
Summary: Jack has a run in with New York's finest.


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The interrogation room isn't exactly pleasant. It's a little too hot with unflattering fluorescent lighting and the chairs seem designed to be uncomfortable, but little things like that don't bother someone who's spent quality time in a Chinese prison. However, it is annoying that once again Jack's day isn't going according to plan…

Jack Bauer was trying to wipe the worst of the blood off himself when the detectives disturbed him. The first sign of trouble was a tall man in a nice suit walking slowly past the entrance of the alley. It wasn't the kind of neighbourhood where people wore suits. The cop might have just walked past if Jack hadn't still been covered in Michael Benson's blood. Unfortunately the New York traffic had proved somewhat unpredictable and, rather than being able to catch Benson in his apartment out of the way of prying eyes, Jack had arrived just as his mark was leaving the building. He had been forced to improvise, dragging the man into the alley next to the building where things had gotten slightly messier than planned. Jack, slowed down by injuries, most notably a knife in his right shoulder just two hours ago, had been unable to wrestle the gun off the younger man and somehow a bullet had ended up in Benson's chest. He'd then lost consciousness before Jack had been able to get any information out of him and Jack really hated it when that happened.

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_'__NYPD, get your hands in the air!'_

_Jack also hated it when other inferior branches of law enforcement got in his way. Still, he put his hands up obediently while he mentally planned his escape. There was no way he could plead innocence because, aside from the bloodstains, it would only take a moment to find Benson's body which Jack had stuffed under a heap of garbage bags at one side of the alley. Explaining what he was doing would take too long, so he'd just have to fight his way out, which would be easy enough, even if the cop was considerably taller than Jack himself. He'd lay down his weapons like he was told because he didn't actually need them, then all he had to do was wait till the other man was about to cuff him, then turn and thrown him off balance. One punch hard enough to knock him down and by the time he was up Jack would be long gone. There was only one problem…_

_'__Get down on the ground now! Hands behind your head.' _

_Jack stared at the women pointing a gun at him before reluctantly following the instructions. He'd sent the first cop sprawling into the pile of rubbish but had somehow missed the second detective coming down the alley from the other end. How could he have forgotten that, unlike rogue federal agents, cops tend to travel in pairs? Giving up on making a quick escape, he got down onto his knees and then was sent sprawling by a stiletto heel jabbing his back. As he lay on the ground, feeling his shoulder throbbing and a discarded soda can digging into his ribs, listening to the sounds of a pissed off NYPD detective climbing out of a pile of dead body and garbage, Jack started to wonder if maybe he was getting a little old for this. Perhaps all those months in China were starting to catch up with him…_

_The next half hour passed quickly as Jack sat handcuffed in the back of a police car, imagining a clock ticking away in his head, counting down precious seconds. A medic examined and dressed the wound on his shoulder but Jack refused the offer of further treatment; it would be wasting time and all the other agents working on this crisis could be screwing things up without him there to guide them. A coroner arrived to collect Benson's body, which Detective Flack seemed to have landed right on top of judging by the amount of blood smeared across his clothing. Unfortunately the cops seemed to recognise the body immediately, only searching for ID to confirm their suspicions. With uniformed officers and crime scene investigators all over the scene, Jack decided that he was going to have to sit quietly for a while to avoid arousing any more suspicion._

_Jack waited, tight-lipped, refusing to even state his name, until the original two detectives were taking him back to the precinct._

_'Listen, my name is Jack Bauer but it would be better if you didn't call that in. We know there's at least one double agent who has infiltrated the FBI, possibly more. They could be monitoring local police communications and -'_

_To his surprise Detective Flack sounded amused._

_'Do ya know how many of the people we pick up blame the feds?'_

_The question threw Jack for a moment and when he didn't reply Detective Angell answered for him._

_'Almost as many as say it was aliens.'_

_'Really?' Flack looked at her thoughtfully. 'I thought aliens were a bit last year.'_

_'Well you were spared the case of the beheaded guy in the skanky bar last week. I made Messer do the interviews with me, he whinged the whole time and when we finally found a sober witness he said it was aliens.'_

_'Why are we talking about aliens?' Jack tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. He was getting close to losing his temper but he had a suspicion that was just what the cops wanted._

_'Because this is New York city. It's full of nuts.' Flack had the last word and they sat in silence for the rest of the journey._

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Jack jumps to his feet as the detectives finally walk into the room, 'Listen, there isn't time to explain but you have to trust me -'

'Sit down, Mr Bauer.'

'But I - '

'Sit down.' Jack gives the man his best stare, the one that should convey a sense of the urgency of the situation and make the recipient instantly fall in line with his plan. Detective Flack just stares back and Jack sits down defeated. Detective Angell sits down opposite him, while Flack stays standing behind her, a little closer than Jack would consider professional. Then again, he doesn't have much experience of this kind of joint interrogation, preferring the type where he's alone with the suspect, ideally with the door sealed and cameras turned off.

'We have a problem here, Mr Bauer. See, you killed our suspect. Mac dragged us out of bed at 3am this morning to hunt for this guy and now he's dead. Because you killed him.'Detective Flack really doesn't look happy. Jack wants to point out that he regularly works for 24 hours without sleep, but doesn't think it would be beneficial.

'So would you like to explain to us exactly why you murdered Michael Benson?' Detective Angell looks slightly less annoyed which could be a good sign.

'I'm a federal agent.' That's always a good way to start these explanations; it usually impresses the listener, so why do the detectives look sceptical? To be strictly accurate it has been several years since Jack was officially employed by CTU, but that's never mattered before. The detectives can't have got CTU records already, and they certainly won't know that Heller had cancelled Jack's Department of Defence clearance right after he warned him never to come near his daughter again.

'That's funny, Mr Bauer, you didn't have any kind of federal ID on you when we picked you up. In fact according to the records, Jack Bauer died 3 years ago. And unlike Michael Benson, you're not dead. So why don't you try again?'

Jack is starting to realise that his faked death might cause him some problems in the long term.

'It's classified information. I can't tell you because you don't have the security clearance and I don't know if I can trust you.'

The detectives glare at him for a moment, as though that will be enough to break him when so many others have failed, then walk out of the room. The guard pulls the door over but their voices drift back to Jack and he has the distinct impression that they are not taking him seriously.

'This guy is ruining my day.'

'Because he knocked you down or because he messed up your suit?'

'Funny, Jess, real funny. And I don't see why expenses collected in the line of duty -'

'Don, if the department paid all your dry-cleaning bills they wouldn't have any money left to pay our wages. And let's be honest here, that tie-'

'What was wrong with my tie?'

It dawns on Jack that they really aren't taking him seriously at all. There's only one choice then.

'Wait!' he bellows_. _'I'll tell you everything.'

Of course it's breaking protocol but it's hardly the first time he's done that. A moment's silence, then some whispering and then they are back in the room with him.

'Okay Mr Bauer, we're listening.'

'I'm looking for a woman named Annie Hamilton.' The name means something, he can tell by the quick glances they shoot at one another. They know something and they're deciding whether to tell him. There's a barely perceptible nod from Flack and Angell leans back in her chair, folding her arms as she speaks.

'Mr Bauer, Annie Hamilton is dead. Her body was found in the early hours of this morning.'

Both the detectives are watching his reaction closely and it slowly dawns on him that they're looking for signs of guilt.

'I didn't kill her!'

'Actually, we suspected that Benson killed her. But since we can't get a confession out of him now…',

'Because you killed him.' That seems to be a sore point with Detective Flack.

'…we want to hear everything you know about her death.'

Jack takes a deep breath. 'Annie Hamilton's fiancé's brother is the junior aide to a high up White House official. There's a conspiracy within the government. Someone in the president's inner circle has been passing information to the head of a company that we suspect has ties to - ' Except perhaps conspiracy wasn't the best word to use because the detectives don't seem to be listening any more. In fact they're standing up and leaving.

'You just sit tight, Mr Bauer.' Detective Angell gives him a friendly pat on his injured shoulder, making him grit his teeth. That wasn't deliberate was it?

'And we'll decide whether or not you're crazy.' Detective Flack gives him a charming smile as they leave the room again. Jack has the feeling he might be sitting there for quite a long time. It's definitely one of those bad days.

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(I own nothing. And I do like Jack really.)


End file.
